quiet, sincere, upright Christians."

They had reached a sudden turn on the path, and before them, on the top
of a steep cliff, stood Dumah, with his fair hair streaming in the
sunshine. He was singing, and they paused to listen.

"He is gone, the noble, the handsome,
And the tears of the mother are falling
Like dews from the cup of the lily
When it bends its head in the darkness."

"Poor Dumah!" said Amzi, "singing his thoughts as usual. What now,
Dumah? Who is weeping?"

"A poor Jewess," said the boy, "and her two children cling to her gown
and weep too. Ah, if Dumah had power he would soon set him free."

"Set whom free?" asked Yusuf.

"The father; they say he took the cup to buy bread; but for the sake of
the children, Dumah would set him free."

"Oh, it is only a case of stealing down in the Jewish quarter," said
Amzi, carelessly.

"Yet," returned the other, "a weeping mother and helpless children
should appeal to the heart of Amzi the benevolent. Let us turn aside and
see what it is about. Dumah, lead us."

They followed the boy to the hall or court-room of the city. A judge sat